Hands
by TheExplosiveBubble
Summary: Sakuno had always been fascinated by the vast difference between her hands and those of Sanada's... drabble


**"Hands"**

* * *

Lying there, in that pocket of satiated warmth, Sakuno was prone to daydream. The room lit only by the lonely presence of a nightlight was dim, and the walls seemed to further shrink at the lack of light. The clamor of outside traffic was mere background noise as Sakuno's mind wavered between consciousness and oblivion. The firm surface which she had been using as a pillow shifted beneath her, and she felt a strong arm wrap securely yet gently around her narrow shoulders. The torso sunk as a deep breath was sighed, and the moving ceased.

Now, pulled snugly against the other body, Sakuno curiously spread her fingers across the muscles, exploring the ridges and bumps of the sinewy arms, the sensitive skin at the collar bone, the strong jaw. Every time that she had the opportunity, her hands would be compelled to touch. It was neither provocative nor sexual; if anything, it was embarrassing. Yet habits would be habits, and Sakuno surely never tired of her own.

As her fingers trailed down the forearm, there was a slight twitch in the nerves, but it stopped as she gently lifted the hand. Closing her eyes, she could already imagine the memorized lines and calluses. The veins swollen with consistent use connected the bony wrist to the fingers. The knuckles were rough and wide, narrowing into the long fingers only to again be widened at a joint. After stroking the fingernails, she turned the hand over.

The palm was rough against the soft pads of her fingers. Playing sports did that, she knew. Still, the difference between her slender fingers and the ones she caressed was tremendous. Even after she had taken up tennis, watery blisters would grow only to heal into the fine skin that had already been there.

Tracing along the deep lines in the palm, she imagined how ironic it was that this was the same hand that gripped a racket so strongly, that exerted the owner's endurance to its limit, that won games and championships, that led entire teams both in middle school and high school. This hand was the same hand that would gently brush against her cheek, runs its fingers through her hair, entwine with her own to promise security and affection. Without any warning, something so domineering could morph into gentleness—a quirk that she had come to cherish about this man.

The man again shifted, and this time, she heard a voice rough with sleep murmur, "Sakuno?"

_Caught again_. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, yet she did not drop the hand.

"Yes, Genichirou?"

"Are you going to sleep at all?"

She smiled against his skin. "Eventually."

She felt a hand tenderly run rifts through her hair, massaging the back of her neck. She squeezed the one still captive, to reassure herself of its presence.

Her boyfriend sighed. "You've done this every night since you've moved in."

She pulled herself up so that she could look at his face. Using her unoccupied hand, she pushed the black strands of hair out of his face. "Is it annoying?"

Perhaps it was guilt--that forlorn tone in Sakuno's voice--that caused the uncomfortable expression on his face; or maybe he simply wanted the discussion to end sooner so that he could sleep.

"No," he breathed the words. "But for the sake of my games and your classes, we both need more sleep than we have gotten this past week."

Her eyes instinctively darting to the alarm clock, registering the red glow of the numbers and the lateness of the hour, she complied with a smile and once again curled up against that warm, strong chest. The body beneath hers relaxed, and with her ear pressed against him, she could hear the methodic thump of his heart--comforting, steady, solid. Even when the slight shaking of a passing train caused the room to tremble, her ears were connected only to that single sound.

"Goodnight, Genichirou," she whispered.

There was no response, but Sakuno did not need one. She did not need to see the smile to know that it was there.

And there were two hands--one slender and pale, the other rough and tawny--locked in a lovers' embrace late one night in Japan.

**END**

**

* * *

**

A/N: I enjoyed writing this. :D (for those who didn't guess, they're supposed to be in university...)

edit: I use dashes a lot..but for some reason, some of them were deleted without my knowing it. So, hopefully, that's fixed.


End file.
